


brought low and driven into the mud

by Gay_as_fuck



Category: OFF (Game), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Dies/Nobody Lives, Alternate Universe - OFF (game), Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Child Murder, Gen, Holy Mission, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Dungeons & Dragons, Steve Harrington's Nail Bat, Violence, i didn't explain much but neither did the game, idk why i'm writing an off fic in 2018 but that's life, more than
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 05:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gay_as_fuck/pseuds/Gay_as_fuck
Summary: The Chief returns to Hawkins, Indiana to purify the last holdouts against the nothingness and bring about the long awaited end of everything.Or, a Stranger Things OFF AU where Hopper brings pain, suffering, and eventually peace.





	brought low and driven into the mud

**Author's Note:**

> So, idk why I decided to write smth so fucking sad but I had the idea of hopper as the batter and eleven as hugo and well... things spun out of control from there. just- take this as it is. Title is from Darkest Dungeon
> 
> so quick rundown  
> the batter - hopper  
> mike - the judge (bc he's the dungeon master)  
> will - valerie/jophet combined  
> jonathan - the first guardian  
> the mind flayer (in control of dustin and lucas) - the third guardian  
> joyce - the queen  
> eleven - hugo (she's been holding the shattered world together)  
> max - zacharie
> 
> and the song for this is just one line out of "Sax Rohmer #1" which is "I am coming home to you, with my own blood in my mouth. I am coming home to you, if it's the last thing that I do" but instead of going to take care of/protect his daughter hopper has to kill her blah blah blah.

The Chief arrives at the town limits of Hawkins, Indiana with only the clothes on his back and a nail bat in hand. He scans the roadway into town, devoid of any cars. Someone stands in the center of the road, where he’s fairly certain no one should ever stand. 

“Who are you?” The figure asks, and The Chief takes a step forward. This stranger is just a boy with a knit sweater and mop of brown hair. When he speaks again the boy’s tone is laced with anger and confusion. 

“People don’t come to Hawkins, besides the only creature in this zone is me.” He points to himself and gives a sigh, letting go of his anger. “I’m just going to assume you’re an NPC from one of my old games returned to my subconscious from loneliness. As the guide, I guess I should show you around.” He turns and takes a step down the road. The Chief follows him past the silent woods. 

“There used to be all sorts of animals here.” The boy explains as he gestures to the right of him where the trees stand completely still, no wind to shake them. “Will used to love finding the biggest bugs he could, god I miss him.” The boy stops and turns to The Chief before asking a question. 

“Sorry, I forgot to ask your name.” He adds a laugh, though it’s mostly self-deprecating. This is the kind of boy people must find charming. 

“The Chief.” It’s simple yet the boy frowns at his answer. 

“No, I don’t mean that I mean-” He cuts himself off and thinks for a moment as he finds better phrasing. “Whoever is “playing” your character.” The Chief grumbles but gives a reply anyways. 

“I call him Hopper, but his friends call him Jim.” This seems to satisfy the boy who holds out his hand, “I’m Mike Wheeler, nice to meet you, Jim.” The Chief starts walking again and leaves Mike’s hand hanging there. 

“No one else can hear or see him.” Mike picks up his pace and soon is back in front of The Chief. “And he says, to call him Hopper.” Mike gives a huff and the pair continue walking in silence. 

The moment The Chief spots a chain link fence Mike stops and pulls something out of his pocket. It’s a piece of paper which he swiftly unfolds before handing it over to The Chief. 

“Since we’re about to enter Zone One you should have something to save with. Take your character sheet.” He takes it from the kid and shoves it into his pocket. He leaves Mike standing there at the fence, a sad look in his eye. 

It takes a good deal more walking before he finds the first creature he has to purify. It takes a few good swings with the nail bat but the Demodog goes down easily. The further he travels the more seem to pop up, all crawling along the chain link fence bordering the road. 

The town should arrive in view soon, or at least he hopes. He’s already tired and the work has not yet begun. He can endure walking for miles on the empty road, he can endure all the Demodogs in the world. He must if he has any chance of seeing her. 

Unwanted, she shows up in the back of his mind with hair shorter than any little girl could want. She bleeds too easily, that’s not right for a girl her age. 

The sight of a house, thankfully, pushes thoughts of her out of his mind. On closer inspection, it is a small house and rather worn down at that. As he draws to the front he hears something, music drifting from inside. 

He makes his way to the front door which he opens without the need for a key. The lights flicker with each of his footsteps as he admires the decorations. There are lamps everywhere, and Christmas lights covering the walls.

He follows the music past the alphabet on the wall. The lights above it flicker “O. F. F.” on repeat. He knows what he must do, and turns away from the unwanted reminder. At the end of the music, he finds a boy, no older than 16 clutching a camera. 

He doesn’t notice The Chief at first, only stares straight ahead towards a radio. It blares “Should I Stay or Should I Go”, a song that stirs something in the back of The Chief’s mind. He knows, suddenly but not shockingly, who this boy is. 

“Jonathan, I must purify this zone.” At the mention of his name, Jonathan turns to The Chief. There’s something sunken about his eyes as they stare emptily. His mouth is snarled in rage yet there’s only defeat in his shoulders. 

“Will’s gone,” Jonathan says, with no particular inflection. His eyes do not center on The Chief or anything in particular, and the din of the music is a little louder than his voice. 

“He left me all his things, his sketchbook and his action figures and his crayons and his books.” He rambles and The Chief lets him, his purity will be soon and Jonathan has always been a sweet kid.

“And he’s gone.” Something stern finds its way into Jonathan’s voice and he repeats the same phrase, rage seeping further and further into each proclamation. “And he’s gone. And he’s gone! AND HE’S GONE!” Jonathan stands and throws the camera at The Chief, who hits it aside with ease. The games are over, and this boy’s time has come. 

“And it’s your fault.” Jonathan luges for him and the music swells. They fight, and The Chief puts him down. The lights flicker off and the music stops, he leaves the house dark and brand new. 

He stops just outside Zone One and pulls out the character sheet Mike gave him. Stats have begun to fill themselves in, and he sees his health staring back at him, less than he had hoped to make it out with. 

The Second Zone is the town center, where the supermarket stares down the public library. He goes to the supermarket first, it just seems like the right thing to do. As he pushes the doors open a Demodog jumps out at him, he beats it aside. 

“Hey!” Someone shouts and he raises an eyebrow, who would have a problem with him purifying the place. A red-haired girl walks into view, eyes twitching constantly from the dead Demodog to The Chief. 

“Did you just kill that thing?” He shrugs at her question, it wasn’t too hard. 

“Oh, I get it. You’re mister cool calm and collected.” She sighs and runs a hand through her hair before shrugging off her backpack and dropping it on the floor. 

“I guess you’re the hero of this game right?” She sits down next to her backpack and unzips it slowly. “Which makes me the shopkeeper. Great. At least the shopkeeper doesn’t die.” The Chief gets the impression that she’s mostly talking to herself so he doesn’t pitch in. She looks up to him after sorting through her bag. 

“You need healing shit right?” She holds out a three musketeers bar to him which he takes and quickly finishes. 

“You know you need to pay for that right?” She asks and he gestures to the dead Demodog, payment enough. 

“You don’t talk much huh.” She comments and The Chief lets a rare smile dawn on his face, “Only when I don’t want to.” She’s a cheeky kid, and part of him used to like kids like that. 

“You’ll only get in my way if you keep charging me, so try to go along with what I ask for.” He pats the bag he’s holstered on his waist for emphasis. She glares at him, but a shiver passes through her hands. She knows he isn’t joking anymore. 

“Well, what do you need then?” By the time he’s fully stocked she’s almost out. She mumbles something to herself as he turns to leave. She watches him go until he’s left the building. Then she goes about her duty, searching for more supplies. 

The Chief goes to the public library next, unsure of what he expects to find. His battles make more noise than they should, perhaps just to spite any would be patrons. No one is there, just him and a repetitive sound coming from the roof. 

By the time he reaches the top, he understands what it is. A boy is there, and he’s tapping. His fingers create an uneven beat that shakes the building in a way it shouldn’t. He can’t see the kid’s face but corruption bleeds from him. 

“I tried to fix it, but nothing worked. It was going to be nothing but endless fun, so much to enjoy.” The boy turns to him, a simple boy with a shaggy home haircut and black muck draining out of his mouth. 

“I won’t let you hurt her, I won’t let you kill the dream. It was all going to be wonderful it was all going to be free.” He babbles and The Chief realizes that this is Jonathan’s younger brother, Will. He removes the bat from his belt and rushes forward, ready to put an end to things. 

In Will’s defense, he puts up a better fight than his brother. He hurls fireballs at The Chief, but it’s all in vain. Fully stocked with healing items nothing could possibly stop The Chief. He does not look at the body once he’s won. Fluids, infectious and natural both, pool from the child’s body at The Chief’s heels. 

He walks away, retracing his path. It is only when he’s reached the street outside the library that he sees Mike again, speaking with the girl from earlier. Mike takes a moment but soon he spots The Chief. Mike walks over, giving the girl a chance to duck away. The Chief is no more grim about his recent kill than Mike is. 

“I-” Tears spring to the kid’s eyes, “I know what you did.” Mike fixes The Chief his best death glare which ends up failing to affect him. There’s not much the kid’s judgment can do against the weight of the actual action. 

“You’re dressed like a police chief aren’t you supposed to follow the law?” It’s not phrased as a question. The Chief purses his lips and rocks back a little on his heels. 

“That wasn’t a crime.” Mike makes twin fists and screams his reply at The Chief’s relaxed tone. 

“You killed him!!” The Chief reaches out a tentative hand which he places on Mike’s shoulder. He pushes the hand off and steps back, still staring The Chief down. 

“He was dead long before I found him.” He returns his hand to his side, regretting the show of sympathy. He has no time to be emotional, or to care about the kids here in this fucked up world. Mike wipes at his eyes and after a moment speaks again in a shaky voice. 

“I’ll help you get us all out of here, but I don’t have to like it.” They stand together in a less tense silence before Mike starts walking away. The Chief follows, unsure of where the Third Zone lies. Mike leads him through the identical and winding roads of suburbia. 

“It’s a hard puzzle, but it’s a good thing you have me to guide you,” Mike comments, but earns no answer from The Chief. “I designed it myself you know, it took the guys three sessions to figure it out.” He chuckles slightly, but there’s not much humor to it, as if he once found the sentiment funny and is now only laughing out of tradition. 

They don’t talk much more until they reach the middle school. Hawkins Middle School is a drab grey building, with a few stripes of blue here and there to make it seem more appealing. He goes to open the door but Mike stops him. 

“Don’t.” It’s a sharp word which draws The Chief’s attention away from the handles. “At least not yet. I just need to tell you something.” He sighs and fiddles with his hands before forming the right words. 

“He’s- I know they’re far gone but you have to talk them down!” He grabs The Chief’s hand, which is quickly pulled away. “Dustin and Lucas tried to fix this when Hawkins was first, um, disrupted?” He grimaces at his own choice of words. The Chief has words of his own to describe what’s happened, infection and impurity. The whole town is diseased, fucked up, turned upside down. 

“They went through the portal but they came back all wrong. They wouldn’t talk to me, and just holed themselves up in here.” Tears spring at the edges of his eyes again but he manages to keep them down. 

“I’ll see what I can do kid.” The Chief turns away from him and pulls the doors open. He walks down those empty halls on his own, with the occasional Demodog or Demogorgon of course. He finds the pair in the gym, just sitting there in puddles of the muck that had been inside Will. 

When they speak, they have the same voice, an unearthly thing that should not be coming out of two boys. They look bloated and rotting, they should be in coffins not on mats in an abandoned school gym.

“Without me, there is only chaos, suffering is control.” The two boys say he’s unsure if which one is which. “The world would slip into the void if we did not force it together.” The Chief calls bullshit and rushes at the boys with his bat. 

By the time he’s done, no one would be able to tell which was Dustin and which was Lucas. He lets their names pass his lips, simple things but important nonetheless. 

Jonathan. Will. Dustin. Lucas. Just one more and he’ll be done with his holy work and they can all rest. He’s sure if he calls it anything other than holy he’ll have not justification for what he’s doing. 

The huge paw symbol painted onto the gym wall cracks open and he steps back. It’s just large enough of a fisher for him to make his way through it, so he does. Another zone that had opened itself up to him. 

Just before he enters he pulls out the stat sheet again and writes down the names of the boys he’s spared, the boys he’s killed. He considers adding her name to the list, but can’t bring himself to do it. 

He folded the paper back up and returned it to his pocket. It was a stupid sentimental thing to do, what would dying with those boys names by his side do when his goal is to end this world. No one would exist to remember his deeds, to absolve him of sin or punish him for it. 

He crawls through the crack and finds himself somewhere coated in muck yet surprisingly familiar. It takes him a moment of staring around the damp and infected woods to realize he’s right outside his father’s cabin. 

The place that he had planned to turn into his home but no, then she had died. He takes a step forward and more memories come rushing in. He made this place a home, with music, compromises, and all the love he had left. He had made this place home with her. 

Different girls, his brain tells him, but his heart says “one and the same.” 

He trips the can wire by mistake, one he would never have made in the past. He had honestly assumed it wouldn’t be there. Even after all the changes and years past, it will always be his father’s. 

He continues forward and hears music again as he draws towards the door. It’s his music, the kind he had played as a kid. He grits his teeth and let out a growl. This cursed place isn’t going to make anything easy for him. He had hoped to walk into this fight with his mind clear from the comforts of the past. 

This is a trial set before him, the second to last before the end will come. As he opens the door with a creak the music stops. A woman is standing there, and her presence comforts him at first. He recognizes her as someone the man he used to be found solace in.

He looks down from her brown eyes and stiffens at the sight of the ax she’s holding tightly. Her arms shake with overwhelming emotion, fear or anger he can’t tell, but her hands are steady. 

“Of all the people, I never expected it to be you, Jim.” Her exhaustion is painfully obvious in her tone, but she meets his eyes. She’s ready and willing to fight and kill him, but that doesn’t mean either of them have to like it. 

“Who else would it be? I’m the only one who can end it now.” He knows that he should just get on with the battle, but he remembers loving her. She says nothing to him after that still too torn on what to say.

“Please Joyce, just let me pass, and this will all be over.” He pleads with her, an attempt to show that he’s just as weary of this as she is. 

“I can’t let you.” She steadies her grip and starts the fight. He lets her get one hit in before he really tries. They’re well enough matched, he’s stronger but she’s more determined. Still, he wins, because he has to. If he can’t survive this, he can’t survive the battle to come. 

He leaves her body behind, bent in ways a body shouldn’t be. He writes her name on his character sheet. Joyce, he loved her and loves her still, but he can’t let himself be handicapped by love. 

With his bat in hand, he walks further into the house and knows exactly where to go. She will be hiding in the attic where he told her to run if anything went wrong. As he finds the ladder he hears another set of footsteps at the door. He turns to look and sees Mike there at the door over Joyce’s body. 

“I was wrong. You can’t be the hero!” Mike shouts earning a sigh from The Chief. He takes his hands away from the ladder. “Hopper, this is your last chance to leave this be.” He attempts to bargain, but the words fall on deaf ears. 

“I should have stopped you after you killed Will, but I trusted you. You’re nothing but a final boss, and I’m the Dungeon Master.” The Chief attacks him, slamming the bat into the kid’s side. In return, his vision is replaced with grey. 

He does his best to keep his cool and pulls out one of the status healers the girl gave him. He takes a larger bite of the spam than necessary and sees his vision return. Mike seems shocked and starts scrambling for Joyce’s ax. 

He struggles to rip it from her grip, still strong as steel even after death. He casts something at The Chief and the world turns shaky and wrong. He trips, suddenly at the wrong angle and finds himself sprawled on the floor. When he attempts to stand again, the world bends another way, so he crawls. 

Mike sees him crawling despite this new condition and freezes, his face betraying how much this shouldn’t be happening. 

“You can’t do that! You shouldn’t be able to do that! You can’t do that!” He’s babbling and still pulling vainly at Joyce’s ax though most of his attention is now diverted. He never manages to free it by the time The Chief reaches him. 

Once the deed is done, the world stops spinning. He stands finally with sure footing and takes a moment to bite down on bile. Refusing to look at what’s left of Mike The Chief takes out his character sheet and writes down Mike’s name. It’s a long list, longer than he had hoped. 

He walks to the ladder and puts his first foot up, the whole thing shakes from disuse. Still, he steps up and finds the wood does not break under his full weight. He climbs slowly and slams the hatch up with his bat. Whatever lock had been in place splitters the wood as it breaks apart, and someone whimpers. 

Not someone, The Chief knows who it is. He peaks over the top and sees her, pushed as far back into the wall as possible. She’s glaring daggers at him, clutching a walkie-talkie close to her chest. 

He takes a breath and pauses a moment before pulling himself up as high as he can. That ends up being just high enough that he’s forced to take off his hat and place it behind him. The hatch slams back down behind him.

“You were supposed to take care of me!” She shouts at him and he grits his teeth, willing himself to not respond and make the process a little less painful. 

“You’re just as bad as Papa!” She throws her hand out, pushing him back but he digs his bat into the wood and holds out. He’s pushed back until his heels are halfway over the hatch. She’s forced to take a moment and catch her breath. That’s when he runs at her, careful not to go too fast and break through the ceiling. 

She’s still not fully recovered from the first push but his bat is still heading right for her temple and it’s deflect or die. She deflects, but he’s not pushed back as far as the last time. They both take a breath in sync yet completely at odds.

He strikes at her and is parried when she holds up her walkie-talkie and channel her power. She’s bleeding from one nostril now but it’s no sign of her weakening any. They continue the pattern, him hitting and her slamming the bat away before he causes any damage. 

It’s a solid strategy on her end, but she’s only a child. By the time he actually manages to get a hit in she’s bleeding from both nostrils and barely has the energy to lift up her hands. Each swing takes a toll out of him, but he can still swing while she can’t block anymore. 

She holds on for longer than he had expected, even after she stops being able to defend. Her last words are spoken in a voice scratchy but determined. 

“Please.” She’s crying as she looks up at him, cracked in more ways than one now. Blood mixes with tears and faintly he realizes that he’s crying too. 

“It’s over now.” He strikes her on the temple with the last of his strength and she takes her last breath. He sinks at first to his knees and then collapses fully to the floor as his bat clatters down beside him with a dull thud. 

Her blood soaks through his clothing which surely will stain the character sheet Mike gave him. They’re all here with him, the people he’s loved and the people he’s killed. Most of all, his daughter is there right in front of him.

He closes his eyes as the light drains out of the world and the frame of the house falls apart around him. There’s nothing to celebrate and nothing to mourn at the silent death of the universe his daughter had so diligently held together. 

Finally, finally, they’re at peace.


End file.
